Against All Odds
by phoenix521
Summary: Here we go again...this time, a lot of stuff revolving around spike's final departure. songbased fic. still good, though overdone. language. enjoy!


_A/N: so, yet again, another song-based fic. this time it's "against all odds" by phil collins. just, ya know, more stuff about faye dealing with spike leaving. has it been done to death, oh yeah, but hey, it's an inspiring point in the show, so why can't i hop on the bandwagon? i do believe that i misplaced the events surrounding the infamous "tiger stripped cat" story, but i think wecan all deal. well, read and enjoy it and it'd be fun if you'd review. and if you do review, nothing harsh, please. well, on with the story!_

_Against All Odds_

_How can I just let you walk away…_

It didn't work. She fired round after round at him, and yet it still didn't work. Albeit she was not trying to hurt him, but how was he toknow that for sure?

_Just let you leave without a trace…_

Why was he still chasing after her? He had said that there was nothing that he could do for a dead woman, yet he was still going to throw his life away. Didn't he realize what he was doing to her--them? What he was doing to her and Jet? It wasn't fair. I just wasn't fucking fair.

_When I stand here taking every breath with you… _

Faye thought back to the night before _he _left. She had overheard him telling Jet some stupid story about some cat. God, she hated cats. After 'story time', she made her way to the bay of the Bebop and took out a cigarette. As she leaned on the railing, staring out into the water, she heard him swagger in.

"Can I help you?" she asked passively.

"Nah. Guess I just wanted to see the stars," he casually replied as he lit up a cig of his own.

"Fair enough, Cowboy," was her simple reply.

The two comrades stayed that way: silent, hunched and smoking, for what seemed an eternity, until Faye finally broke the reverie.

"Why?"

"…Why what?" he asked her, tossing her a sideways glance.

"You know damn well 'what', Spike. You don't have to do this; there's no reason to. Not anymore."

"It has to be…"

"Stop! Just stop. If you're going to give me some cryptic ass answer, then forget it!"

"Hey, calm down, Faye, geez. I made a promise, and I have to keep it."

"Even if the promise will cost you your life?" Faye questioned, tears already welling up in her jade irises.

Spike thought long and hard on her question. He stared into the sky once more as he blew out more smoke. Several minutes passed before he responded.

"Yeah. Life's a bitch, ain't it?"

The two just looked at each other and chuckled. As the soft laughs died away, they were once again left with silence and smoke. The moments stretched for hours, and Faye was content in the moment to just hear him breathe. To just hear him alive, to just be near him. How was she going to get along without him? When there was no more smoke and no more breathe? Would she cease to be as well?

She watched as Spike flicked the butt of his cigarette into the water and head back inside. Watching the end float away in the liquid night, Faye let her tears fall.

"Don't cry for me, Faye. I was already dead from the day we met."

Damnit, how could he always do that?

_You're the only one who really knew me at all._

_How can you just walk away from me…_

As she watched him stroll down the corridor for the last time, she could only think of how he told her that the past didn't matter. And yet here she was, gun still raised to the roof, tears streaming down her lovely face, watching this ghost go find his grave. It was too much to take. She prayed for just one more bullet, she really would shoot him this time. But with every pull of the trigger, all she shot was air.

_When all I can do is watch you leave…_

Faye just didn't get it. For the life of her, she just couldn't wrap her head around the reason Spike left. It was all for the woman, though he said it wasn't. I mean, a broken heart is hard to mend, but not impossible. And yeah, betrayal hurts, but it doesn't warrant a personal vendetta that could only be resolved by blood.

As she sunk to the cold, metal floor, Faye dropped her gun to her side. She just didn't try hard enough. She had showed emotion, but just not enough. She had showed want, but she wasn't nearly as desperate. And she showed love, but just not passionately enough. All she could do was watch him leave; watch him go to die. Faye didn't know what was worse: the fact that Spike went to fight for a woman or the fact that Faye wasn't woman enough to make him stay.

'_Cos we've shared the laughter and the pain,  
__And even shared the tears…_

Just a week earlier, Faye believed that she was making genuine progress on helping Spike forget. It had only been hours before when Julia had died in his arms, and Spike was still covered in her blood. Faye wanted to say a million different things, but it just didn't seem like anything would come out right.

"I'm…I'm sorry, Spike."

He glared at her coldly. How dare she speak to him? How dare she even be alive? He wanted to shout at her, to yell at her and hit her and curse her for being alive! But when he looked at her, he saw something not akin to Faye: tears. For him? They had to be. But why cry for him?

"Faye…you really should mind your own business," he said, sounding harsher than he had intended to.

"You…you're my comra…my friend. I think that kinda makes you…my…um…my business."

Once again, Spike looked at her. She was comical in her own stupid, Faye way. She was being honest and true. The least she deserved was to be acknowledged for that.

"I guess…you got a smoke?"

Faye couldn't help but smile slightly as she pulled two cigarettes from her pack. She placed them in her mouth and lit them both. Before she had a chance to pass one to Spike, he took it upon himself to grab it instead.

"Don't go around snatching things," Faye scalded.

"Yes mother," he chuckled.

The pair sat in the common room, Spike on the couch and Faye in the chair. They both stared aimlessly at a spot on the old, dusty table, just enjoying the nothingness. It was only a small cough from Faye that brought them back into the world.

"So, she's really gone, huh?" Faye dared to ask.

"Yep."

"I bet you wish I was the one pushing up daisy's, huh?"

"…Yep."

Faye had to admit, that comment stung. Spike realized it, too.

"But then again," he quickly added, "I never really wanted you around in the first place."

That coy smile made its way back onto Faye's face as she found herself laughing at this broken-hearted cowboy.

"Yeah, well, I've never been too fond of you, either, gaucho."

"Whatever you say, shrew, whatever you say."

They sat a few minutes more in the silence, finishing off the cigs, and continuing to stare at the spot on the table. Faye heard something plink onto the metal floor, which was quickly followed by a few more similar sounds. Looking up, Faye found Spike's head in his hands. His shoulders shook ever so slightly, and his breath was quietly ragged.

'My God, he's crying!' Faye realized. And in front of her, no less. He didn't show it, of course, but that was beside the point. Faye was unaware that he had feelings like this. As she watched him, she realized that tears were now streaming down her face as well. He really did love that woman. What a waste. What a sad waste.

"Geez, Faye," Spike smirked as he wiped his eyes, "Way to be a glory hog. I thought I was the only one who deserved to cry."

"Shut up, ass!" Faye hissed as she stomped out of the room. "And to think, I was actually beginning to feel sorry for you!"

All Spike could do was laugh at her. If he didn't know any better, he'd say _she'd _be the death of him. Not such a bad way to go.

_You're the only one, who really knew me at all._

_So take a look at me now,  
_'_Cos there's just an empty space,  
__And there's nothing left here to remind me,  
__Just the memory of your face…_

God, she had been so stupid to ever even think about falling for that man! There was nothing that she could have ever done for him. He was, as he had said, "dead from the moment they met." But did that stop her from giving into his stupid, easy come easy go charm? No, of course not.

And what was she left with now? Nothing but an empty gun, slowly numbing legs and an ache the size of the galaxy. She was angry at herself. She was angry at him, and Julia and Vicious and Jet and Ed and Ein and every single person in her life, because one way or another, they would inevitably let her down.

_Take a look at me now,  
_'_Cos there's just an empty space,  
__And you coming back to me is against the odds  
__And that's what I've got to face._

Jet quietly peered around the corner and saw Faye crumpled on the floor. Boy was she taking this hard. He always knew the girl had a soft spot for the reckless cowboy, but he was unaware just how deep she was in. It broke his aging heart, actually, to hear her sobbing uncontrollably for him to stay. He wanted to go to her and pull her up off of the floor and tell her that it would all be alright. But he decided against it. Faye needed this moment for herself. He wouldn't dare interfere with that.

_I wish I could just make you turn around…_

"My, my memories came back," she had told him that in a last ditch effort to get him to stay. It was idiotic of her to think that he'd just forget about the task at hand and run back and comfort her. She was only met by his cold silence.

"But…nothing good came out of it…" she bit her lip, praying for a response.

"I'm not going there to die…I'm going there to see if I really am alive."

That was what he told her. He never looked at her; he never betrayed emotions in his voice. He just gave her some ridiculously cryptic answer that she would never be able to understand. She had just made her last plea to get through to him, and it had failed. And quite miserably at that.

_Turn around and see me cry…_

And that's when she fired. And that's when she cried. And that's when he left, and never once looked back.

_There's so much I need to say to you…_

"Come back, Spike, come back," she faintly whispered.

She needed to talk to him, she needed to tell him. To tell him everything. She wanted to tell him how much she hated him. How much he infuriated her and angered her and made her feel like shit. She needed to tell him that he could single-handedly make her want to die. And she needed to tell him that he could single-handedly make her fly. He needed to know that he gave her a reason to go on. He gave her a reason to laugh and smile and fight for life. Life that he was going to throw away…

_So many reasons why…_

And most of all, she needed to tell him that, somewhere along the way, though she tried her damndest not to, she had fallen in love with him. Perhaps if she had just gotten that last little part out, he wouldn't have gone. He would have seen a reason to live. He would have at least looked at her, just on last time. God, she truly was a failure.

_You're the only one who really knew me at all._

_So take a look at me now,  
_'_Cos there's just an empty space,  
__And there's nothing left here to remind me,  
__Just the memory of your face…_

That God-forsaken night still haunted Faye. It probably always would. She had just woken up from another take on that night's events. As always, she was so close to telling him that she loved him, but she would always wake up too soon. Not even in her dreams could she tell him. It was useless, just like everything else in her life.

"Jet…any of you ISSP pals got anything yet…"

"Faye, stop. Please. It's been seven months, now, and if they haven't found anything by now, then they never will."

"But Jet…"

"I mean it, Faye! He chose to walk out on _us_, not the other way around. For all I care, he could remain a damned wandering soul without a body! It'd serve him right!"

Faye thought on this a moment before laughing hysterically.

"Great, now she's lost it…" Jet mumbled.

"Not quite yet, old man. It's just that Spi…_he_ was already some lost, wandering soul."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Jet joined in her laughter.

It hurt to see her laugh like this, in his opinion. But then again, it was a lot better than watching her cry.

_Take a look at me now,  
_'_Cos there's just an empty space,  
__But to wait for you is all I can do,  
__And that's what I've got to face…_

Faye wandered out onto the bay and lit up a cigarette. She had actually stared to cut back on the things. She was down to seven a day, as opposed to her fifteen plus habit of old. It was a cool night, she noted, as the wind whipped around her gently. She was dressed in an oversized shirt and a pair of flip-flops. He violet hair was pulled up and her nail-polish had long ago chipped away.

She inhaled and relaxed a bit as the nicotine invaded her body. It would always be a welcoming comfort. Staring at the sky, she wondered if there were a few less stars in the sky tonight.

Sighing, she turned her attention to the lonely ripples of the water below. Why was she still waiting for him? Well, at least his remains? She had to figure that she just wanted a chance to say goodbye. And a chance to say everything else she had wanted to say to him that night, but just couldn't.

"It's not fair!" she screamed. She was prone to these random outbursts over the cowboy's death, so no one in the Mars dock bothered to see what the matter was tonight.

"How dare he do this to me? It's just not fair! How could he be so fucking selfish! And why couldn't I be enough to make him stay!"

_Take a good look at me now,  
_'_Cos I'll still be standing here,  
__And you coming back to me is against all odds,  
__It's a chance I've got to take…_

At the rate she was going, Faye was going to cry her body dry and scream her throat bloody raw. But it just wasn't fair. Pushing away from the rail, Faye headed back inside. Unfortunately, she had to walk down the corridor. _That_ corridor. God, she'd never be free of him.

"Heh, this is where it all started and ended. If only I could have made you turn around and look at me. If only I could have made you stop and see. But I guess it just wasn't meant to be, eh cowboy? But God, I just wonder what would have been if you had just turned around and looked at me?"

Lost in though, Faye bumbled down the hallway, past ready to sleep.

"I'm looking now, Romani. Why don't you show me what I've beenmissin'?"

Faye stopped dead in her tracks.

'What the fuck?' she thought.

Now, she was just plain hallucinating. She was tired and angry and upset and it was all just taking its toll on her. Without even daring to glance back, Faye picked up the pace to her room. She could have sworn she heard footsteps coming after her, but then again, she wasn't sure of anything anymore.

She had made it to her bedroom, slipped in and was about to close the door, when a strong hand forced it back open.

"I'm pretty sure I was talking to you," the figure smirked.

"Sp…Spike?"

"That's what they call me."

She could have slapped him, she could have kicked him, hell, she could have ignored him completely, but she just didn't have it in her. She did the only coherent thing she could: she hugged him. And to her great surprise, he hugged her back.

"You were never an empty space, Faye, and I'm sorry for making you feel that way."

"You know, I think I love you, cowboy," Faye cried out, afraid that if she waited any longer, she'd wake up again.

"Well then, looks like it's a good thing I came back. I always knew you were lost without me."

Faye would have, on any other occasion, bopped him good for that, but right now, all she could do was hold him closer. He was looking now. Yes, he was finally looking. And for Faye, she could finally breathe again.

_Just take a look at me now._

_IT'S ABOUT TIME YOU OPENED YOU'RE  
__EYES, SPACE COWBOY..._


End file.
